


The crazy adventures of Root

by chick_with_wifi



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Crack, F/F, Femslash February
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-18 15:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9390224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chick_with_wifi/pseuds/chick_with_wifi
Summary: Root sits on an old, rusty bench outside a pub with uneven streaks of green dye in her dark hair and a sombrero on the seat next to her. Her elbow is on the armrest and her cheek is cupped in her palm. She snores gently and continues to drool on her hand. Yet she still manages to look cute.*freeze frame**record scratch*That’s me. I bet you're wondering how I got there. Yeah. So am I.Or: Root tries to find out what happened the night before while simultaneously taking Shaw out on an early Valentine's Day date.





	1. Chapter 1

8:47 am

Root sits on an old, rusty bench outside a pub with uneven streaks of green dye in her dark hair and a sombrero on the seat next to her. Her elbow is on the armrest and her cheek is cupped in her palm. She snores gently and continues to drool on her hand. Yet she still manages to look cute.

*freeze frame*

*record scratch*

That’s me. I bet you're wondering how I got there. Yeah. So am I.

The Machine doesn't know either, since that bar I’m sitting outside was clearly erected in the dark ages and thus has no surveillance.  
You know things got wild when even God doesn't know what happened last night. 

But we do have some clues to work with. First, I woke up outside a bar with a hangover and no memory of how I got there, so there must have been alcohol involved. However, what we don't know is what led me to drink and why that particular bar was my chosen venue.

Hopefully the video will have answers, because I certainly have questions. Roll the tape!

*footage of Root rewinds then commences*

1:06 am

Root walks out of the bar massaging her temples. Her hair has been dyed and she is holding a sombrero. She looks up into the security camera and says, with a drunken slur, “Can you hear me?”. A second later she smiles with a distant but happy expression and sits down on the bench, placing the sombrero next to her.

“That was a fun evening.” She blinks dramatically at the camera then rests her head on her hand and closes her eyes. “Immm definitely going to cowboy night agai-” Her last syllable is cut off my a snore.

*footage pauses*

That explains the sombrero, at least. I’m analysing this footage while She investigates if I did anything else last night that was recorded. Honestly, I’m not that sure if I want to see it!

“ _I have found something._ ”

“Ooh, what?”

“ _You telephoned Primary Asset Shaw at 10:15 last night. Would you like me to play the call?_ ”

“Might as well. Go for it.”

*audio recording*

Dial tone

Ring

Ring

Ring

Shaw: Hello?

Root, slurred: Heeeey Sweetie.

Shaw: Are you drunk?

Root: Just a little. I’m at a bar scouting out a number. She certainly likes to party, it’s cowboy night!

Shaw: Oh my God.

Root: Don't worry, it’s not as bad as it sounds.

Shaw: Who’s the number?

Root: Just some college student, no biggie. You enjoy your night off, Sweetie.

Shaw: Whatever. Good night.

End of call

“ _I didn't give you a number last night._

“I know. So why did I lie to Sameen?”


	2. Chapter 2

“Badda bing badda bing badda bing,” Root sang with her eyes closed and her fingers laced behind her head, feet up on Harold’s desk and her chair leaning on its back legs. “Badda bing badda bing badda-”

“Would you stop that?” Shaw slammed her hand down on the bench.

“It helps me think,” drawled Root without moving.

“It seems you've been doing a bit much of that considering what happened last night.”

Root threw her weight forwards and her chair thudded back onto all four legs, the impact making her teeth clack together painfully. 

The unexpected sound made Shaw tiredly look up from cleaning her gun with a ‘what do you want’ face.

Root swiveled in her chair to face Shaw and rested her elbows on the desk. “We spoke last night? Before I drunk dialed you, I mean.”

Shaw looked steadily at her with just a hint of skepticism. “Umm, yeah. We hung out at some random café while you waxed philosophical about shapes and science, and I think simulations made it into there at some point. Then you nearly decked some dude for criticising robot surgeons and self drive cars. He said they are more prone to mistakes and accidents but you disagreed, insisting not having feelings meant they could achieve technical perfection easier and not getting scared or upset allows them to make decisions quicker in a crisis. 

“Then you started going off about how not having feelings doesn't make you worse or unable to have compassion - which was really awesome and badass - but when this guy disagreed with you, I had to physically restrain you.” She paused. “Wait, you're saying you don't remember any of this because you were...drunk?”

“I didn't say that,” Root mumbled.

“Oh my word: you were hammered!”

“I was not!”

“You got so drunk you blacked out...wait, why?”

Root smiled sadly, snapped her fingers and pointed at Shaw. “That's the million dollar question. The Machine and I are trying to find out but nobody is being very forthcoming with details.”

“You said you were working a number but you weren't, were you?”

Root shook her head. “At least, I don't think so. She said She didn't give me one.”

“So what you're saying is this is all highly suspect.” Shaw grinned. “Well, we're sort of like PIs, so let's get investigating!”

*

Root led the way into the bar she woke up outside of and tried to think if it looked familiar. It kind of did, like she'd been there before in a dream.

The bar looked even older than it bad on the video, with a wooden floor polished within an inch of its life and mismatched tables and chairs. At one side was a bar with a shelf behind it that took up the entire wall, filled with liqueur bottles.

Root and Shaw walked up to the tattooed bartender with sleeves rolled up to his elbows who was wiping down the sticky counter. When they approached him he threw his cloth over his shoulder and looked up pleasantly. “What can I do for you?” he asked in a British accent. But as soon as his gaze alighted on Root he smiled. “Oh it's you.”

“‘Oh it's you’ good or ‘oh it's you’ bad?” Root asked with an uncertain eyebrow raise. His appearance rang a bell, and she wasn't sure she liked where this conversation was going.

The bartender rested his elbows on the countertop. “‘Oh it's you’ how could I ever forget your face?”

Hesitantly, Root said, “What did I do and/or not do?” Out of the corner of her eye sure caught Shaw’s smile and thought: at least one of us is enjoying this.

He motioned for them to sit and Root perched nervously on a bar stool while Shaw only just managed to use the counter to hoist herself onto the one next to Root. Then she leaned forwards expectantly like she was waiting to heat the next installment of the most gripping tale of the century.

Part of Root hoped her drunk antics wouldn't disappoint Shaw, while the rest of her cringed with preemptive embarrassment. 

The bartender took a breath and began his tale. “So, yesterday evening your friend here comes in all dressed in black leather looking like some sort of biker and announced that she loves the song playing. Then she starts singing along, which the other customers weren't too chuffed about.”

In Root’s ear the Machine said, “Your cochlear implant informs me the song playing was ‘better than love’ by Hayley Kiyoko.”

“It looked like you might have already had more than a few drinks from the way you started crying and babbling about feelings and logic and whether love is the same for everybody or if something can be mutually experienced without being a measurable quantity.” 

“Dang Root. You got deep,” whispered Shaw.

“I know,” Root whispered to her. It was all sounding vaguely familiar but still disconnected. As if hasn't happened to her but rather someone who told her about it afterwards.

The bartender glanced between them then continued. “Because it was cowboy night, we had more customers than usual. A gang of youngsters struck up conversation with you and said you needed to wear a cowboy hat to fit in. So said something like ‘back in a jiffy’ and returner ten minutes later wearing a sombrero.”

“From that cover in a Mexican restaurant a while back,” the Machine added.

“I don't know if you were being cocky or just didn't have a cowboy hat,” said the bartender with a shrug.

Probably both if we're being honest, Root thought but kept her mouth shut. Shaw, on the other hand, was having the time of her life and hanging on to the bartender’s every word. 

“When you returned, these youngins teased you about your hat so you challenged them to a drinking contest.”

Root groaned and Shaw sniggered.

“The loser had to dye their hair green without sobering up and, well, you see the result of that. But don't get me wrong, it was a good game. All of you went a few rounds easy, but somewhere between the sixth and seventh shot you became so drunk you could barely stay on your chair. Then you gave in and acceptred the forfeit there and then.”

“Lightweight,” Shaw muttered. Root shook her head in despair.

“You were still intoxicated at that point and went into the bathroom to dye your hair. Then you stumbled out and that was the last we saw of you.” He spread his hands out. “I hope that helps.”

“It did,” said Shaw. “I’d buy a drink but it seems my friend has already had more than enough. Thank you for your time.” She hopped off her stool and pulled Root by the hand out of the bar.

As soon as they were outside, Shaw playfully punched Root on the shoulder. “Can you believe you?”

Root laughed. “Considering I am myself, yes. So we have solved one mystery, which just leaves two more.”

“Oh?”

“The small matter of ungreenifying my hair -” she caught sight of herself in abshop window and winced “- and taking you on a do-over date where I promise to not start and fights or touch a single drop of alcohol.”

Shaw smiled and looped her arm through Root’s in order to pull her put of the way of a puddle, then kept her arm there. “You don't have to do that. Honestly i’d rather just go back to out batcave and get takeout. We almost never get downtime so it’d be nice.”

Root nodded enthusiastically. “Let's do it! The Machine knows what we like so She can order our food.”

“Coolio.”

Snorting, Root said, “Did you just say ‘coolio’?”

“What? No.” Shaw leaned away from Root a little, desensively folding her free arm over her chest.

“You did! Oh my word!”

“I did not. Must be your deaf ear.”

“You're on my left.”

“Whatever, Nerd.”

*

In the subway, Root sat on the bench next to Shaw while slowly eating her pot of orange chicken and dramatically waving her chopsticks around. “Okay, now we have recapped Team Machine’s Greatest Hits-”

“I still think that time I drove off a bridge without so much as a scratch was the coolest,” Shaw interjected while reaching for her second pot of food.

“- I think it's time to discuss business.”

“Which is?”

Root tucked her hair behind her ear and bit her bottom lip. “It's nearly Valentine's Day. And like you said we don't get a lot of downtime and the chances of no crime on a day about not being single is pretty slim. Yeah I’m not a big fan of holidays about consumerism, but it's the thought that counts. So...you wanna have our own mini celebration?”

“I thought you'd never ask.” Shaw slid her hand into the back of Root’s neck, lacedber fingers though her hair and pulled her in for a kiss.

Sameen tasted of faintly spicy Chinese food and coffee. Even after how many times they had kissed it still made Root’s heart flutter.

As she pulled away Shaw said, “Green hair and orange sauce around your month is a good look on you.”

Root’s mouth dropped open. “Shut up!”

Shaw used her chopsticks to put a piece of waterchesnut in Root’s mouth and shrugged when Root raised an eyebrow.

“She has a point,” the Machine said though the speakers on the computer. “Sorry, am I interrupting?”

“Just a little,” Root replied. “Did you want something?”

“Admin and Primary Asset Reese are on their way back. I just didn't want you to accidentally scandalise then again.”

Shaw grinned. “We do seem to do that a lot.”

Root nodded, smiling. “Yeah we do. OK, thanks for the heads up.”

“No problem. I’ll let you get back to your date.”


End file.
